The Misadventures of an Exiled Teen in Beacon Hills
by ermahgerdwhatever
Summary: "Let's be honest here, the most exciting thing that happened in New York was the moonlight massacres fifteen years ago. This is more fun." Isaac/OC
1. Exiled

**Hi. I edited the first chapter.**

**Rain: My first ever reviewer! :D Thank you for the wonderful review! I could not stop smiling after reading it. I'm glad you liked the first chapter. I'm sorry but I already finished writing the new first chapter when I read your review. I hope you'll like this one, too. :D**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Teen Wolf.**

* * *

_"I, a desolate woman without a city… No brother, no mother, no relative at all."_ (_Medea)_

Exile: to separate someone from one's country or home while either being explicitly refused permission to return and/or being threatened with imprisonment or death upon return. It is usually another form of punishment used aside from imprisonment placed upon criminals who have political importance and so they are shipped away to a distant place where their influence cannot be felt. Ancient Greeks saw exile as a fate worse than death. One would be thrown to a strange land, exposed without the protection of the government, friends or family, and left to fend for their own. It wasn't a pretty fate.

Exile is a tradition practiced until today, by legal institutions and smaller, close-knit, communities. Werewolves, in particular, still honour the practice closely. Their version of exile is simpler. Alphas have the power to exile betas of their pack permanently or indefinitely as a form of punishment. That's usually how Omegas come to.

And now, she just became the latest Beta subjected to this sentence.

* * *

The gavel hit the sounding block three times, signalling the end of the trial. Everyone stood up and shuffled for the exit aside from one girl. She stared forward blankly, trying to process what just happened. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw her brother looking down at her sympathetically.

"Let's go, Arya." When she didn't move, he grabbed her arm and pulled her upright. She still didn't move, so he steered her out the room and in his car. He started the engine and drove off. A bump on the road jostled her and effectively pulled her out of her stupor. She blinked a few times, trying to unfog her mind.

_Exile._

She scoffed inwardly. How primitive.

Well, not exactly. Exile is still widely practiced today, but she found that werewolves took great pride in the tradition. Normal humans have ways to escape exile, they can freely disobey it if they want, but werewolves can't. They can't disobey their alpha's direct order. No one can, actually. It has been like that ever since.

"I'm sorry, Arya." Her brother said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Arya laughed humourlessly. "Oh, yes, Damien, your remorse is so great I can almost taste it," She said, sarcasm dripping from her every word. "Why don't you add in a few tears? That will surely secure you an Oscar nomination,"

Damien frowned at her attitude. "I am still your alpha, have some respect." His eyes glowed red for a second. A shiver ran up her spine but she just ignored it and scowled.

"You were my brother first." She callously pointed out. "You should always be my brother first, not my fucking alpha all the time."

Damien frowned. "I did everything I could." He tried to reason with her. "And you weren't exactly innocent."

"He wasn't either, but he only got a slap on the wrist while I get banished from New York!" she exclaimed. "Where's the justice in that? We all know that Jenna has a big influence in the council, it's unfair."

Ever since the famous moonlight massacres 15 years ago, a council was formed among the five packs of New York, and a treaty was struck, making the packs coexist peacefully. There were originally six packs, but one was completely slaughtered before the accords happened. Five packs remained, scattered equally among the five boroughs of the city. Her brother and their pack governed the Manhattan area.

"Rob sided with you." He tried to placate his sister. It didn't work.

"Yes, but Caleb and Hanna sided with Jenna. Caleb, I understand, but Hanna? In any other case, she would go against me, but this is violence against women. Doesn't she support female rights, or something?"

"Hanna hates you, remember?"

Arya snorted. "Her principles should come before her personal grudges. I should've taken this to normal court."

"And what would your case be? Harmon has a scar from what you did to him."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Which side are you on again?"

The car stopped at a red light. Damien turned to her and opened his mouth to say something but she quickly got out the car and slammed the door shut. Her brother sighed, watching her walk away. She put her hood up and buried her hands deep in her pockets, letting herself blend in the busy New York crowd. She reached her destination and barged in the apartment, slamming the door behind her and signalling her arrival.

Derek Hale didn't have to look up to see who invaded his apartment. Arya threw herself on the couch beside the armchair he was occupying.

"I take it the council meeting didn't go well?" he asked warily.

Arya barked a laugh. "Oh, it went fantastic. Really fan-fucking-tastic," she gritted her teeth angrily. "I'm on exile, effective this weekend," Her eyes glowed yellow and her fangs elongated along with her claws. Derek could see her face slowly shifting. He sighed.

"How long?"

"_Indefinitely until advised otherwise_," she mimicked Jenna's voice. She growled and jumped to her feet. "I mean, seriously? It was self-defence! Harmon was being a lecherous bastard! He tried to touch me!" she started pacing. "Jenna should learn how to control her firstborn."

"What did he get?"

"New-born and guard duty, compared to my exile." She shook her head. "Who knew the council passed on such fair judgements?" she laughed bitterly.

"You attacked him—with a knife doused in wolfsbane. The accords strictly prohibited the use of fatal substances against each other. Where did you get that anyway?"

"He provoked me!" she threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "Didn't you hear what I said? He was a lecherous bastard! He deserves more than that scar,"

Derek sighed. "Well, what punishment did you want him to get?"

"I want his testicles cut and fed to him." She said flatly. Derek chuckled.

"I'm pretty sure that punishment has been invalidated hundreds of years ago."

Arya made a face. "Where am I supposed to go anyway? I've lived in New York all my life. What if I go somewhere and some pack doesn't want me there? What if hunters catch me? I can just camp right outside the state line. I'm only banished from New York. God, I don't want to be an Omega, even if it's only temporary." She babbled on.

Derek watched the teen wear his carpet down. Her red hair trailed along behind her like strands of blood and she was frantically running her hands through them, all the while muttering under her breath. Her claws were out and Derek waited until one of them caught her scalp. As if on cue, she yelped in pain and stopped pacing. She looked down at her bloody nails.

"Shit," she cursed, and then started pacing again. Blood trickled down her forehead but she paid no mind. When she started to run her hand through her hair again, Derek stepped in and grabbed her arm. She stared at him, glowing yellow eyes meeting glowing blue ones.

"You're doing it again. Calm down," he told her softly. Instead of snapping a sarcastic remark, she answered him levelly.

"I can't." She whispered. Her eyes turned back to their original green colour and her claws and fangs retracted. "I don't know what to do, Derek."

Derek sighed and hugged her. She hugged him back tightly.

"You can stay with my sister," he offered, pulling back to look at her face. "At Beacon Hills, California,"

Arya scoffed. "That's hundreds of miles from here, Derek."

He shrugged. "At least you'll know someone."

She shook her head. "No." She went to leave but she paused when she was halfway across the room. She turned around with sigh and smirked weakly. "This town better not be boring."

* * *

Derek found another visitor in his apartment later that night.

"Beacon Hills, huh?" Damien asked. The tall alpha was standing in the middle of the living room, his arms folded over his broad chest and a stern expression on his usually friendly demeanour.

"Did you have somewhere else in mind?" Derek challenged, mirroring the other wolf's stance.

Damien sighed. "No." he dropped his arms to his side. "I'm worried, Derek." He admitted. "Arya doesn't do well with being alone."

"She won't be alone. Laura will be there. I'll fill her in on Arya's condition." Derek said.

"Arya won't be happy with that."

"She'll be fine."

"I hope you're right, Derek." Damien sighed. He sat down and dropped his head into his hands wearily. "I really do,"

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please review. I'd love to hear what you think. :D**


	2. Big Empty Houses and Welcoming Parties

**Here's Chapter 2! I edited the first chapter, please check it out. :D**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Teen Wolf. I wish I did, because they were so adorable at comic con.**

* * *

"Derek, your sister isn't here," Arya hissed into the phone. She had arrived at Beacon Hills about two hours ago and waited for Laura Hale for an entire hour before she decided to wander off around town. She sighed. "I'll just have to find my own way to the apartment Damien bought."

Derek laughed. "Good luck with that."

"Hey, I can ask for directions, you know." She clicked her tongue. "Ye of little faith,"

"I'll try calling Laura." Derek said before hanging up.

"All right," she read the address Damien texted her and looked around. "How hard can this be?"

* * *

It proved to be harder than she thought. She was seriously inept in following directions, especially when she's in unfamiliar territory. It was after lunch when she finally found her saving grace. She took a deep breath and pushed past the doors of the police station.

"Thank you so much, Sheriff Stilinski. I am seriously hopeless with directions when it comes to new places." Arya said when the sheriff pulled up the driveway of her new house. They got out of the car and walked to the front porch.

"You're very much welcome, Arya. It's a slow day today and I've wanted to get out of the station since lunch," he said, making her laugh.

"I think that's a good thing that the police force of this town has nothing to worry about. New York is so much different from this. It's nice." She decided.

"Well, then, I'll leave you to get settled in." Sheriff Stilinski said, retreating back to his mobile. "If you ever need anything, just call—actually, I have a son your age. I'll tell him to drop by one of these days."

"That would be great." She waved. "Thank you again." She jogged up to the front door but turned around when he called her again. "Yes?"

"Welcome to Beacon Hills." He smiled before getting in the car and leaving. Arya watched until the police car disappeared from view before turning around and facing her new house. She sighed. "A two-storey house? Really, Damien?" she shook her head and unlocked the door.

The house was virtually empty. She dropped her bag and looked around. Yep. It was empty. There was no furniture, aside from a couch in the middle of the room which the previous owners seemed to have left behind.

"Who leaves a couch behind?" She took the cover off the couch and collapsed on it. She stared at the ceiling and frowned at the cobwebs littering the corners. "This is just sad."

She was about to drift off when her doorbell rang. The doorbell rang a few more times and she begrudgingly dragged herself to answer the door.

"You must be Arya." A dark-haired woman greeted, smiling brightly. The smile vaguely resembled Derek's own one.

She narrowed her eyes at the woman on her doorstep. "And you must be Laura." She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest. Laura laughed at her behaviour.

"Yeah, sorry. I got caught up in the hospital."

"Hospital? You work there?"

"No, I was just visiting my uncle."

Arya furrowed her brow in confusion. "Derek didn't mention any uncle."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure he hasn't mentioned a sister until now, either." Laura said, shrugging.

Arya laughed. "Wow. You two must be really close,"

"Oh yeah, like super close." Laura said, twisting her index and middle finger together. The pair laughed.

"I would invite you inside but the house is empty, aside from a couch the previous owners left. The movers are yet to arrive tomorrow."

Laura took a step back and took in the house. "Wow, you live here alone?"

"Yep." Arya nodded. "That's kind of my thing now. Being alone, living alone, eating alone, alone, alone, alone indefinitely until advised otherwise…" she trailed off, wrinkling her nose up in dislike.

"At least it isn't permanent,"

"Yeah, it's just indefinite. Big difference, really." She laughed bitterly. And then she frowned. "I'm sorry. I had a long day. I promise I'll be more pleasant once I'm rested."

Laura chuckled. "I'll hold you to that." She said. "Anyway, it's nice to meet you. I'll drop by again tomorrow to help you move in."

"It's nice to meet you, too." Arya waved and watched Laura get in her car and drive away. She sighed heavily and went back inside, collapsing on the couch and falling into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Arya woke up extra early the following morning. The sun hadn't even risen yet. She checked the other rooms and found out that she had three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs, one toilet downstairs, a cupboard under the stairs, once spacious kitchen, a basement and a big backyard.

"This house is too big for me." She muttered. She cleaned what she can and took a shower before the movers arrived at 8 o'clock.

"Where did these furniture come from?" she asked the mover when she signed the papers. The man shrugged.

"I don't know, ma'am, these are all in the manifest. Though, I think some of them are brand new."

Arya sat on the front steps and lit a cigarette while watching the movers carry more boxes and furniture in her house. The movers were almost done when a blue jeep pulled up and two boys got out. Arya flicked her third cigarette and approached the boys.

"Hi. Can I help you?" she asked, smiling politely.

"Hi. I'm Stiles, my dad told me to drop by and help…" the pale one with the shaved head said, smiling unsurely.

"Oh, right! Hi! I'm Arya,"

"Yeah, this is Scott," Stiles jerked his thumb towards his tan friend. Scott waved, but he was more on watching the movers.

"Uh, yeah, I arrived a day early, so yeah," she explained. There was a moment of awkward silence as the teens looked for something to say.

Stiles jumped as if an idea crossed his mind. "Do you need some help?"

"If you're up to moving furniture around,"

Scott puffed his chest out almost comically. "Yeah, we'll help you with the heavy lifting." He grinned.

Stiles clapped his best friend's shoulder. "Says the severe asthmatic," Arya chuckled and led the boys inside.

"My dad mentioned that you moved from New York," Stiles started conversationally as they started sorting out the boxes. "Why?" he asked as if it was the stupidest thing to do. Arya chuckled.

"It's not really my decision to move," She smiled sheepishly. "My guardian kind of exiled me here,"

"Where are your parents?" Scott asked. Stiles shot his best friend an incredulous look.

"Dude!"

Arya waved her hand, laughing softly. "No, it's okay. My parents have been gone for a long time."

Stiles frowned. "We're sorry. My best friend lacks tact," He hit Scott upside the head.

"Ow!" Scott rubbed his head gingerly. "Yeah, sorry."

"Don't worry about it." She assured. "All right, I think these all go upstairs," she gestured to the pile of boxes in front of her. "The last room on the left, I think."

The boys nodded and hauled the boxes upstairs. The rest of the morning was spent carrying boxes to their respective rooms and arranging the furniture, all the while conversing lightly about Beacon Hills.

"So, lacrosse is a thing here, too?" Arya cleared. They were at the kitchen, unpacking the pots and other kitchenware. "I thought that sport was only for private prep schools."

"Our team is actually great, you should watch one of our games when school returns," Scott said.

"Assuming that you'll still be here, of course," Stiles added. "How long are you here for, anyway?"

"I'm not really sure." She shrugged. "Most likely forever, I mean, my brother sent almost all my things and a few additional furniture."

"Can't he have bought you a small apartment? This place is too big to live alone in." Stiles said.

She nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

"I'm hungry." Scott groaned, rubbing his stomach. Arya glanced at her watch.

"Oh my god, we've missed lunch! I'm so sorry. I don't have any food here. Maybe we can order pizza? I'm buying?" she grinned sheepishly.

"Why don't we eat out and then pass by the grocery while we're at it so you can stock up?" Stiles offered. "I have a car, so…" Arya hugged him.

"Oh my god, I think this is a start of a beautiful friendship, Stiles,"

"A commensalistic one?" the pale boy grinned cheekily. She scoffed and hit him playfully.

"Can we hug later when we're fed?" Scott asked dryly.

* * *

They had lunch at a diner in town and then dropped by the grocery to buy foodstuffs to last Arya a week. Stiles and Scott suddenly dragged her to an ice cream store where they talked more. And then they gave her a quick tour of the city and randomly pointed out several places, telling her stories of some of their adventures in them that made her laugh so hard her stomach hurt. When they returned to her house, it was almost dark.

"Thank you so much for the help and the tour of the city," Arya said after they finished unpacking the grocery.

Scott shrugged. "You paid for the food, so we're good." He said jokingly.

"I'm afraid we have to leave now. My dad wants me home for dinner," Stiles said.

"Oh, that's all right. You two have helped a lot." She walked them to the front door.

"If you ever need anything, just call us, I've programmed our numbers in your phone," Stiles told her.

She gasped. "How'd you get my phone?"

"A magician never tells his secrets," He said in all seriousness, shaking his head.

She narrowed her eyes accusingly. "You took in when I was in the restroom, didn't you?"

Stiles shook his head adamantly, making her laugh. "Nope. Not gonna tell."

"Off you go, then. You'll be late for dinner." She watched the boys walk to the blue jeep. Before going in the car, Scott hesitated and turned back to her and smiled widely. She raised her eyebrows.

"Welcome to Beacon Hills, Arya."

She closed the door and leant against it with a heavy sigh.

"Yep, welcome to Beacon Hills, Arya."

* * *

**I know, it's boring. Tell me what you think. Please. Thanks for reading! :D**


	3. Graveyard Boy and the Awesome Backhoe

**Helloooo! Here's Chapter 3!**

**Rain: No. You are not annoying me with the long review. Actually, I loved it very much. In fact, I don't mind if you put longer reviews. I love the feedback. I love how someone really likes my story. It makes me happy. :D Yes, I am planning on making her close friends with Stiles, rather than with Scott, because Scott's so absorbed with Allison in the first season and Stiles needed someone else to hang out with. Haha. Yes, she's badass. I think. I mean, she's a werewolf. So, yeah. Haha. Anyway, I'm not sure if you'll like this chapter... but anyway, read on! and thank you so much for the review. You're actually the reason why I finished and posted it right away. :D**

**poorxbrokexcollegexkid: Hello! Thank you so much for the review! Your wish is granted, here's a new chapter! I hope you'll like it. :D**

**WARNING: This chapter contains self-harm and dark themes. Maybe I should change the rating to M.**

**I'm really uncertain about this aspect of her character now, but I've long planned that she has depression. Is it too much? Mary Sue-ish? Tell me what you think. Please.**

* * *

The next few days were spent with either Laura or Stiles and Scott. Laura would help her around the house while Stiles and Scott toured her around the city, including her in some of their adventures every so often. Eventually, Arya finished settling in. She repainted some of the rooms, planted flowers and brushes in her garden and familiarised herself with the area. There weren't any calls from her New York friends, as the conditions of her exile strictly prohibited it. Her new friends visited her almost every day, but when they leave, she couldn't help but feel so alone in her big empty house. So, to battle the feeling of solitude, she sleeps.

* * *

Arya woke up with a start. She looked around and found herself on the couch in the living room. She looked at her clock and saw that it was only 11pm. She sighed and collapsed back on the couch. She stared at the ceiling blankly. It still had cobwebs. She sighed once more.

"Yeah, forgot about that." She muttered.

It's these kinds of nights that her thoughts start to plague her. She wanted to get up and do something mind-numbing but it was too late. She already started thinking. About everything. The exile. Harmon. Damien. The council meeting. Derek. Beacon Hills. Being alone. Everything.

She stood up, grabbed her keys and her pack of cigarettes and left. She lit a stick and walked around aimlessly in the neighbourhood. She gritted her teeth, trying to push back the thoughts that might trigger her condition.

Her therapist said that depression cannot be cured, you just learn how to live with it, and then he gave her a bottle of antidepressants. She depended on the pills for a few years and then it made her turn to self-harm, because feeling nothing was not a good feeling. Her brother noticed the scars. She made sure to use a knife laced with wolfsbane so the wounds would heal more slowly and leave scars. He sent her back to another therapist. She told her therapist:

"Depression cannot be cured. This is my way of coping. It makes me feel. What's so wrong with that?" And then she stopped attending her sessions. She stopped taking her meds, too. She tried to stop the self-harm, and stopping self-harm meant she should stop the depression, too, or at least keep it at bay as much as she can.

Arya found herself in a cemetery. She walked around before sinking down against one of the tombstones. She brandished her wolfsbane knife and twirled it around her fingers entrancingly.

There are times, however, when the darkness just creeps in. Sometimes it goes unnoticed. And then she suddenly realised that it's already there again, getting cosy in the dark recesses of her mind. She can't do anything about it. She thought of why she had been feeling that way—the attack, the anger she felt when she cut Harmon, the brutal council proceeding, how helpless Damien looked then, the pity in Derek's eyes. If it wasn't for her temper Damien wouldn't be forced to exile the only family he had left, the council wouldn't look at her pack badly, she would still be a beta of one of the most powerful packs in New York, she wouldn't be here, she wouldn't be alone, she wouldn't be feeling like this. What's wrong with her? It was all too much. She ignored everything long enough. And so she succumbed to the feeling.

She held her knife tightly, placed it against the skin of her wrist, and dragged it across the skin, breaking it in the process. She watched as the blood dripped down her arm, and onto the ground. She decided it wasn't enough. So she did it again. And again. And again. Until her arm was littered with red lines and her elbow is dripping blood. She watched as the wounds healed slowly. And then she cried.

"Why are you crying?"

Arya gasped and looked up at the tall boy standing over her. She scrambled to her feet, quickly wiped her cheeks and pulled her sleeves over her arms.

"Did you know him?" he asked, nodding towards the tombstone she was previously leaning on. She shook her head.

"No. I'm sorry. I'll just leave."

He stopped her. "No. You can stay. I was just surprised that there's someone out here at this hour."

She regarded him closely, taking note of his split lip and bruised cheek. "You're here." She accused.

He shrugged, chuckling lightly. "Well, I kind of work here."

"Oh."

The two teens shifted awkwardly, searching for something to say. The boy watched her as she looked around the graveyard.

"Uh, so," he cleared his throat. "I don't think I've seen you around before." She looked back at him with a small smirk.

"Around the cemetery? I don't usually hang out in graveyards."

He rolled his eyes. "No, I mean-"

"-I moved in last week, so I'm kind of new here and all." She smiled tightly. "So, uh, you tend to the graves or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Something like that,"

She noticed a backhoe a few ways behind him. "You know how to operate that backhoe, then?" she said, nodding towards the machine. He glanced at the digger behind him and nodded.

"Yeah, I use it to dig up graves,"

Her eyes lit up. "Really? That is so cool!" she grinned. "Will you teach me?"

He looked at her excited smile and that sparkle in her green eyes he was sure wasn't there when he first saw her. He blushed at the attention and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I guess I can."

She squealed and ran towards the machine. He followed her, smiling and shaking his head at the same time. She hopped in the cab of the backhoe and placed her hands on the wheel. She looked at him eagerly.

"I'm Arya, by the way. Arya Hart," she grinned welcomingly. He couldn't help but return the gesture.

"Isaac. Isaac Lahey."

He taught her how to operate the backhoe. They talked lightly, had playful banter and laughed at the silliest things. He ignored the blood on her sleeves and she ignored the bruise on his cheek and his split lip. She watched him work and they left together. The following night, he found her waiting in the backhoe with a bag of gummy bears and jelly beans.

"Couldn't stay away?" he asked playfully.

"Oh yes, the backhoe left quite an impression on me last night." She grinned. "And in order to be with my awesome backhoe, I'd have to get in your good graces, graveyard boy."

"Graveyard boy?" He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Well, then, tombstone girl, let's see what you have there and I'll decide if you can get to be with my awesome backhoe once in a while," She laughed and tossed him the bag of candies. They sat side by side on the loader of the backhoe.

"Don't you sleep?" he asked, taking one of her red gummy bears. She swatted his hand away playfully.

"Actually, I just woke up," she said. "Oh! I finally got rid of the cobwebs on the ceiling. I now live in a cobweb-free, but still big and empty house." She grinned widely.

He chuckled at her excitement over cobwebs. "Good for you." He commended dryly.

"Yeah, I am so proud of myself." Her grin grew wider, making him laugh. "You can come over now. My house is officially guest-ready."

Isaac opened his mouth to say something but someone cut him off.

"Isaac?"

Isaac bolted up at the sound of his father's voice. Arya slowly stood up and dusted herself. An old, bespectacled man appeared, stomping towards them purposefully, a stern expression on his face.

"Dad," Isaac muttered.

"Are you slacking off again?" the man yelled. He hasn't noticed Arya yet.

"N-no," Isaac stuttered. Arya curiously watched the change in Isaac's behaviour. Gone was the playful boy she was talking to just a minute ago. His shoulders were now slumped and his head was bowed low.

"Then why hasn't the—" The man paused when he finally noticed Arya. She looked him straight in the eye.

"Good evening, Mr. Lahey, I was just talking to Isaac." She said amicably. "I'm sorry if I kept him from his work. It's my fault, really."

"And who are you?" Mr. Lahey demanded.

Arya held out her hand. "Arya Hart, sir. I just moved into town last week."

The man stared at her hand with barely-hidden contempt before shaking it tightly.

"It's late. You should head home. Wouldn't want your parents to get worried," he said gruffly.

"Actually, sir, I don't have parents anymore," she replied, smiling sweetly. "I think I'll stay a little longer, keep your son company and all. I promise I won't keep him from his work." She even batted her eyelashes for effect.

Isaac's dad seemed conflicted. Arya watched as he clenched his fist tightly, noticing that Isaac cowered even more from the action.

"Very well." Mr. Lahey nodded curtly. "I'll see you at home, Isaac."

Isaac nodded meekly. His dad gave them one withering look before leaving. The boy visibly relaxed and let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. He glanced at Arya, seeing the hard expression on her face as she watched his dad get in his car. When his dad drove off, she turned to him with a wide smile, as if the whole altercation didn't happen. She clapped her hands once.

"All right, let's get to work."

Isaac smiled gratefully at her and nodded.

* * *

**Is it too much? The depression, self-harm, thing? Anyway, thank you for reading! Please review. I love hearing what you think of the story so far. Constructive criticism is welcome, too. Hell, even a 'Hi!' would be great. Just so I know that people are reading my story. Yes, I'm desperate for reviews. Haha. Until next time! :D**


	4. Rainy Days and Banana Pancakes

**CHAPTER 4: RAINY DAYS AND BANANA PANCAKES**

* * *

A month passed and Arya perfected her daily routine. Breakfast with Laura, chores, lunch, hang out with Stiles and/or Scott after, chores, dinner, watch TV or read a book and then hang out with Isaac at the graveyard. By the fifth week, however, Laura rarely dropped by, so have Stiles and Scott.

"I think I need a job." Arya turned her head to the side and looked at Isaac. She was lying on the grass while he trimmed one of the plots.

Isaac had been her only constant. He would always be at the graveyard, even if he didn't have any work to do. The pair never spoke of the incident with Mr. Lahey. It was as if it never happened. The old man hadn't made an appearance since then, too. However, Arya noticed Isaac's fresh injuries the night after the encounter. The boy was in a particularly sour mood then, and she smelled fear, resentment and anger on him, along with the stench of blood. She didn't ask him about it and just stayed by his side, watching him work and throwing a few comments here and there. She wasn't sure how he acquired the injuries, but she had a hunch, seeing how Isaac reacted when his father caught them. The more she thought about it, though, the less believable it became. Everyone's afraid of their fathers at some degree. Just because Mr. Lahey didn't leave a good impression on her doesn't mean he's a bad guy. And besides, the boy hadn't sported any new injuries since that night. She didn't have enough proof so she didn't explore her theory further.

Isaac paused and looked at her. "Why? Are you tired of watching me work every night?" His eyebrow was arched and he had a playful smirk on his face. This week had been good to the boy. His father hadn't given him any new injuries and his old ones were healing nicely. Suffice to say, he was in a good mood.

"No." she said, rolling her eyes. "I have a day life, you know. Maybe you should be part of that, too. These midnight meetings are getting awfully weird."

Isaac laughed, resuming his work. "Of course it's weird." He said as-a-matter-of-factly. "It's in the middle of the night at a cemetery."

Arya laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "Why do you always work at night, anyway?" she asked. "Can't you do it in the morning? Better lighting and all," She watched the boy for a second and then she gasped and sat up, looking at him with wide eyes. She stared at him and covered her gaping mouth. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"What?" he asked, getting slightly annoyed by her gawking.

"You're a creature of the night, aren't you?" she accused. "That's why you always work at night!" She grinned proudly at her discovery.

Isaac stared at her blankly.

"At a cemetery, too. It's very suspicious, you know." She clicked her tongue, shaking her head.

"Are you for real?" His lips twitched in amusement. "I could say the same to you." He nodded at her. She raised her eyebrows, awaiting his explanation.

"You appeared out of nowhere—at a graveyard in the middle of the night. Are you a vampire? A ghost maybe?" And then he looked up at the full moon. He smirked. "Or a werewolf?"

Arya threw her head back and howled jokingly, giggling at the end. "Spot on, Lahey. You've figured me out." She smiled wolfishly, baring her teeth. Isaac could've sworn her eyes flashed gold for a split second but he shook it off. She forced her expression into a mocking frown. "I'm afraid I'd have to kill you now."

"A werewolf? Really?" He snorted. "That's so lame."

"What?" She scoffed, offended. "Werewolves aren't bad. They're badass. More badass than sparkling vampires or wailing ghosts." She defended almost childishly. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, turning away from him. He chuckled at her behaviour.

"I think you're more of a vampire, you know, with the red hair and the beauty and all." He hypothesised, regarding her closely. She slowly looked at him, her eyebrow arched curiously. A grin slowly stretched on her lips.

"Aww, you think I'm beautiful?" she teased.

He rolled his eyes, trying to mask his blush. "It's all because of your vampire blood." He insisted.

"I told you, I'm a werewolf. That's why I'm out and about during the full moon." She leaned back on her elbows and basked under the moonlight.

"Well," He dragged out, biting his lower lip in thought. "Shouldn't you be all furry?"

"Oh yeah," she nodded adamantly. "It's a bitch having to shave every day. My drain always gets clogged. Not to mention the bush I grow overnight." She added unabashedly.

"Too much information, Arya." He muttered, blushing furiously.

She shook her head, grinning. "There is no such thing."

Isaac cleared his throat awkwardly. He gave up on trimming the plot and threw the shears on the ground. He assumed a sitting position. Arya mimicked him, straightening up.

"I actually have a day job." He told her.

"How come I've only heard about this now?"

He shrugged. "You never asked."

"What's your day job, then?" she asked. "And why do you still have this job if you have a day one?"

"I work at the car shop." He replied. "And I do this for my father."

She made a face at the mention of his father, making him chuckle. "You mean you don't get paid digging raves and cutting grass?"

Isaac shook his head. "Hence, the day job."

Arya pursed her lips. "That sucks."

"Well, on the bright side, if I didn't work here we wouldn't have met." He smiled.

Arya burst out laughing. "That's so cheesy!" She wheezed in between laughs. She noticed his glare, making her sober up a bit. "Cheesy, but sweet,"

Isaac stuck his tongue out childishly, making her burst into another bout of laughter and giggles. He grinned. It was a good week, indeed.

* * *

The weather the next morning was dark and gloomy. Thunder rolled and lightning struck, dark clouds masking the sunlight, threatening to pour heavy rain on the city. Since Laura didn't come over for breakfast anymore, Arya thought it was just proper to start sleeping in again. Sometimes she finds sleep irrelevant, and then she realises how wonderful it is. That morning, however, she woke up with a start and heard the door open downstairs. She crept to her kitchen and saw Laura making coffee. The alpha looked tired and weary.

"Hey," Arya greeted, hugging the girl. She smelled worry on her. "Are you okay?"

Laura smiled, ruffling Arya's hair fondly. "Yeah, just tired. I'm sorry I haven't been coming over."

"Nah, it's okay." Arya moved to the stove. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Food. Good food."

"Banana pancakes good for you?" Banana pancakes were her comfort food, and the alpha seemed like she needed comfort. So she grabbed a bowl and started to mix a batch of banana pancakes.

"So, what have you been up to?" Laura asked, making coffee for the both of them.

"Nothing much," Arya shrugged. "Slept in, read books, hung out with Stiles, the usual." She glanced at Laura and found the older girl staring blankly into space. "You?"

Laura seemed to snap out of her trance. She shook her head and smiled tightly at the young wolf. "I've been busy with work over at the next town."

"I've been thinking of getting a job myself, actually."

"That's good." Laura nodded.

Arya glanced at Laura over her shoulder. "Have you heard from Damien or Derek?"

"Oh right. That's why I came here today." Laura said. Arya faced her as the pancakes cooked slowly on the stove. "Derek called. He told me that Damien's negotiating the duration of your exile with the council."

Arya snorted. "I've accepted my fate that I will be forever banned in New York. He shouldn't bother himself. The council isn't going to budge."

"Actually, he told me that it's coming along just fine."

Arya made a face. "Don't get my hopes up."

"I'm not." Laura shook her head. "Derek said it might take a few weeks."

Arya laughed bitterly. "Typical. And yet my case lasted for only a month before they reached a decision. I bet it would take them months to decide this time."

Laura chuckled. "Has anyone ever told you that you're pessimistic?"

"My therapist may have told me once or twice." Arya replied, grinning. She turned the stove off and served the pancakes along with butter and maple syrup. They ate their breakfast in comfortable silence. Arya tried to ignore the deep sighs and the blank worried looks from Laura, but after the fourth sigh, she had enough.

"Okay, what's wrong?" she asked, setting her fork down. "You've been all mopey and sullen-looking. If I hear another sigh from you I might just lose it. What's up?"

Laura levelled Arya's questioning stare with her own stoic one. Arya raised her eyebrows.

"You can trust me, you know." She said. "My therapist always told me that it's unhealthy to keep it all in. You need to tell someone or you might just explode, or implode, whichever you prefer."

Laura kept staring at her. And then she sighed. "I think there's another werewolf in town."

Arya's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A bad one?"

"I think so." Laura nodded solemnly. "It was in the woods last night."

Arya's eyes widened. "You were following it?"

"Yeah, that's why I haven't been around much."

Arya ran her hands over her face. "Do you need help?" she offered.

"No. I can handle it. It's most likely an Omega looking for a pack." Laura gave her a reassuring smile. It didn't work.

"Or looking for trouble." Arya frowned. "Omegas are bad news."

Laura looked at her incredulously. "I think you're forgetting that you're also an Omega."

Arya smirked. "Exactly."

Laura shook her head and laughed.

* * *

Stiles came over after lunch and they slummed on the couch, eating popcorn and watching Misfits.

"I want Nathan's power." Arya sighed wistfully.

"Really? Wouldn't that be sad? For you to live forever and watch all your loved ones die?"

"At least I can't die suddenly."

"Yes, because your life is in peril all the time," he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

"What? Their lives are in peril all the time and they're just a bunch of young offenders."

"That's because they have superpowers. Do you have superpowers?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you." She shook her head jokingly. "And besides, everyone's lives are in peril all the time. We're mortals and we can die any moment."

"Wow." Stiles raised his eyebrows. "You're awfully pessimistic, huh? I never thought you were the type."

Arya's jaw dropped. "Why does everyone say that? I'm not pessimistic. I'm realistic." She cried.

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, Laura said it this morning and then Isaac said it last night." She said lightly. "Or was it the other night?"

"Isaac? Isaac Lahey?"

Arya bit the inside of her cheek at her slip-up. She never told anyone about her friendship with Isaac. It took her a moment to reply. "Yup."

"Wait," He backtracked. "What do you mean last night? He was here last night?"

"No." Arya said. She hesitated. She really didn't want anyone to know about her midnight meetings with Isaac. It was their thing—their secret. There was something special about those hour-long talks with Isaac that she didn't want to share with anyone. But Stiles was still waiting for an answer and she deemed the boy trustful enough. And besides, with his attention span, he'd forget about this in no time. "We were at the graveyard last night. He works there."

Stiles scoffed. "That isn't creepy at all."

Arya narrowed her eyes into a glare. "He's nice."

"He's weird!" Stiles exclaimed. "And quiet and shy and creepy, like most aspiring serial killers!" he continued. "Not to mention the fact that he spends his nights at a graveyard! A _graveyard_, Arya. Tell me that isn't creepy at all,"

"Hey!" Arya threw a handful of popcorn at him. "That's my friend you're talking about!"

"And this is your couch you're throwing popcorn on," he said flatly, brushing the kernels off his shirt.

She threw another handful at him. "You're cleaning that up."

...

Stiles watched the TV series with rapt attention after that, with a few off-hand comments thrown here and there. They ordered pizza and ate in front of the television.

"Why is your dad staying late at the station?" Arya asked through a mouthful of pizza. "I thought the crime rate here was low."

"Yeah, but there's a few weird animal attacks two towns away and the sheriff there asked for my dad's help." Arya paused at the mention of animal attacks. "They're organizing a hunting party for this weekend."

Arya put her pizza down and faced Stiles completely. "Animal attacks?" she asked quietly.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, they think it's a mountain lion or something."

"Interesting." She muttered. "How many victims?"

"Three, I think." Stiles said. "I wish something that interesting would happen here in Beacon Hills. This town needs some excitement."

Arya raised her eyebrows. "You want some rabid animal to attack one of the residents here?" she frowned. "And you say I'm a pessimist! You're just downright morbid!"

Stiles shrugged indifferently. "It's not like it's gonna happen anyway. That problem will be gone by this weekend. They have like, a big ass hunting party. That mountain lion will be gone before you can even scream murder."

He continued eating and watching the last episode of Misfits. Arya, however, lost her appetite. She remembered what Laura told her that morning, about the other werewolf roaming the woods. Stiles left shortly after that. Arya spent her time researching on the deaths two towns over. They were undoubtedly caused by a werewolf. Before she knew it, it was eleven o'clock and it's time to go to the cemetery to meet Isaac. She kept her guard up and sharpened her senses when she walked to the graveyard. There was a werewolf out and it's killing people. Laura was right to be worried. She tried calling the alpha but she wasn't answering her phone so she left a voicemail instead. She had half a mind to breach the terms of her exile and call Damien to tell him about the recent development.

Arya practically ran the rest of the way to the graveyard. The graveyard was empty when she got there. She always arrives earlier than the boy. She sat beside a particularly creepy looking statue that vaguely reminded her of a weeping angel and waited impatiently. She wanted Isaac's company so badly right now. His presence always managed to comfort her just like banana pancakes, only better. Thirty minutes passed and Isaac still hasn't arrived. She looked up at the starless sky, watching as a bolt of lightning shone behind the dark clouds, followed by a deep rumbling thunder. She stood up and decided to leave. Just as she was leaving the graveyard, rain started to pour.

"Shit."

She gazed up at the sky, blinking a few times as small droplets of rain landed on her face. Rainy days were always her favourite, but today, it was different. This rainy day brought nothing but problems and worries. Rain poured harder, as if it was mocking her. She glared at the sky.

"Well, fuck you, too."

She put her hood up and half-jogged into town. She was running past the diner Stiles and Scott first took her at when she noticed a sign that made her stop and backtrack. She pushed past the doors, drenched from head to toe, and walked to the counter. A friendly old lady smiled warmly at her and poured her a cup of hot coffee.

"What can I get you, sweetie?" she asked.

Arya glanced at the _HELP WANTED_ sign and then grinned at the old lady.


End file.
